Peter (leaping up angrily, and turning on her). Glad!
Mrs. G. I've been so unhappy here. I shall be glad to be in Midlandton again.
Peter (disgustedly). Midlandton! (Shuddering.) Those grimy streets reeking of poverty.
Mrs. G. (reproachfully). Peter! Midlandton is home.
[She gives way a little. Peter stands centre.
Peter. Yes. After all, why not? The wounded lion crawls to its lair to die. (Pause, looking straight out.) I wonder. Am I a lion or only an ass braying in a lion's skin?